The End Starts Today
by Jen Kollic
Summary: Set just after the flashback from 'Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker'. The uncut version. Deals with the consequences said flashback causes to the lives of Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. You can guess where I'm going with this, right?
1. Chapter 1

Title:The End Starts Today  
Author: Jen Kollic

Disclaimers: All characters are trademarks of DC Comics. I make no money from this. Wah.  
Feedback: Yes, please.  
Notes: Wasn't sure whether to put this in Batman Beyond or not, but I figure since this is just after the flashback it's better off here. Also, I am still peeved by the lack of asterisks. Boooooo.

Spoilers: Big spoilers for _Return of the Joker_. (the uncut version) Passing references to various other toonverse cartoon/comic episodes/issues as well.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The lightning threw the rain-soaked ruins of Arkham into stark, sharp relief against the momentarily incandescent night sky. The lunatics and psychopaths might have been long gone, yet that only made what was left of the asylum even more ominous. It served no purpose now, but somehow seemed to defy the impending completion of its demolition.

Two years ago, after one side of the building had been pulled down, the underground cells deep beneath Arkham had collapsed in retaliation. Six workers had been killed, buried alive in the landslide just as the asylum inmates had once been buried alive in those cells. Perhaps Arkham missed its prisoners. Perhaps it wanted revenge. Either way, regardless of how ridiculous one felt assigning human emotions to a building, the demolition work had been halted.

So Arkham remained. Battered and broken, but not dead. Arkham lived, and the proof was in the fact that even as a deserted ruin it was wholly abandoned. Not even the boldest gangs or most adventurous children would set foot beyond the ruined gates. There was still a presence there, still unseen eyes behind the windows. There was no sense of vacancy about the building; instead there was a malignant, brooding menace.

The sullen rumble of thunder sounded almost like a snarl.

Ivy had sworn that she'd never come back here. Not that she feared Arkham; she knew it far too well for that. It was the memories. That feeling of sick inevitability every time Batman or the cops dragged her back under its shadow. The screams that constantly echoed down the corridors until they fused into a weird harmony. The cell. Even with Harley there, it was still a box, a coffin for the living.

The new Arkham was very modern. Bright lights, chrome, spotless white walls, automatic locks, lots of cameras. Soundproofing. But nobody called it Arkham. It was always 'the new place', and Ivy was willing to bet that it would take at least a couple of generations for it to lose that name. And as long as the slightest remnant of the original remained, it would always be Arkham.

She knew the Joker had a lair here. And only the Joker would dare. No, not dare, that wasn't the right word. Nerve maybe? The arrogant bastard had always seen himself as the 'king' of Arkham, maybe this was his half-witted way of asserting that. Idiot.

The great double doors were lying wide open. Another sheet of lighting lit the sky as Ivy approached the threshold, making the shadowy depths of the entrance seem even blacker. Ivy felt a chill run down her spine as she stared into the Stygian darkness beyond the arched portal, and it had nothing to do with the torrential rain beating down upon her. She was too late. The distinctive boot prints marked in the thick dust coating the corridor that dissolved into the gloom told her that Batman had gotten here first.

----------

_The sound of glass breaking, while not entirely surprising, was still somewhat unexpected. Ivy had only been out of the new place a week, and hadn't got around to any serious plans yet. Batman was early. How inconvenient. _

_Unwinding herself from the coiling vines she'd been reclining upon, Ivy paused to pick up her crossbow, and crept towards the far end of the hothouse, where the sound had come from. The plants parted noiselessly to let her through, if she was lucky she might even get a clear shot at the Bat before he noticed her approach. He'd be waiting for her to make a move of course, this was unfamiliar territory to him and he'd be cautious…_

…_but the black-gloved arm which flashed out from between the trees to grab her by the neck told Ivy she'd miscalculated. And before she could react, she'd been swung almost off her feet and against the thick bole of a mangrove. Batman's other hand snapped down to deliver a numbing chop to her wrist, and her crossbow clattered uselessly to the ground._

_What was he doing? His eyes burned into hers, his face set with such hatred and rage that for several moments Ivy half-expected to have her neck snapped. Her fear (and indignation) had communicated itself to her children; thorn-studded vines were already snaking their way towards Batman, and rearing to strike, to free her._

_And then everything went black for several long, terrifying seconds as Batman's hand closed mercilessly around her throat, choking her. _

"_Call them off." Batman ground the words out between his teeth, the tone of his voice leaving Ivy little doubt that if she failed to do so, he'd have no qualms about strangling her. This wasn't right. Regardless, she had little choice, and placated the murderous vines with a gesture. The chokehold about her neck slackened slightly in response, allowing her to breathe again, but still pinning her firmly in place. She opened her mouth to ask him just what the hell he thought he was doing, but he forestalled her._

"_Where's Robin?" The iron severity in his voice was no different, indicating that if he didn't get an answer, Ivy would be having some serious trouble breathing. She felt his hand tense about her neck, but even so Ivy could only stare at him in blank incomprehension._

"…_what the hell are you talking about?" she replied eventually, hoping that she sounded as bemused as she felt. "How the hell should I know?"_

_Batman tightened his grip about her throat slightly, but he already knew this was a dead end. Not even Ivy could have faked the complete bewilderment she'd shown at the question. But there was still a chance she might have heard something, anything, and at this point he and Barbra were desperate for any clue. _

"_You must know something." he growled, shaking her against the tree. "He's been missing for three weeks. What's the word on this, you people must have at least noticed!"_

_To be truthful, Ivy had no idea the boy was missing, she'd barely left the hothouse since her escape from the new place, she'd hardly had the opportunity to catch up on gossip at the Iceberg. Then again, given what she and Harley had done with the last Robin, maybe it wasn't too surprising Batman suspected her..._

"_I haven't heard anything about it." she muttered sulkily, not wanting to push things while he still had his hand round her throat. "I only got out of Arkham last week; I've not exactly had time to socialise." _

_Batman's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Harley. Have you seen her?" He did have his suspicions on who was responsible for Tim's disappearance, and the Joker was one of the prime candidates, especially now that he knew the boy wasn't under Ivy's control like Dick had once been._

_Harley? All Ivy knew was that she was holed up with the fucking clown somewhere… oh Gaia, surely he wasn't that crazy… "No, I haven't." she replied. "I haven't heard from her either. She's with the clown. That's all I know."_

_That at least correlated with what Batman had been able to discover. There was nothing more to learn here, and while he was loath to leave Ivy with her freedom, he just didn't have the time to drag her back to the asylum just now. Finding Tim was much more important. And he was due to rendezvous with Barbara in half an hour, she might have picked up something from the police reports she'd been combing for clues. Ivy could wait for now._

_Ivy slumped back against the mangrove as Batman released her neck, rubbing at her bruised throat. But when she raised her head to complain about his treatment of her, (reaching for her crossbow while she did) he was already gone. And he'd just left her here. Something really was wrong, and Ivy was prepared to bet that things would only get worse until the bird-brat was found. Of course, if it was the Joker who was behind this, that would be exactly what he was intending. Even if Batman killed him for what he'd done, he'd still have won, because he'd have made the Bat break his own golden rule._

_And if Harley was with him, she'd be right in the line of fire. Ivy had to warn her.  
_

----------

The dim corridors reeked of damp and mildew, warped floorboards creaking beneath the rotted linoleum as Ivy cautiously picked her way through the derelict asylum, following the trail Batman (and apparently Batgirl too if the smaller footprints were anything to go by) had left. She knew that the Bat was gone, the tracks ran both ways, but there were no signs of a struggle, and Harley (or the clown for that matter) wasn't one for going quietly. Maybe they hadn't been here. Sure, Ivy had checked their other two hideouts, but there would be ones she didn't know about. Naturally. There was no need to be worried.

The path led right through her old cell block. Hell Block was what the guards had called it, since they'd all been kept here. Ivy, Harley, Joker, Two-Face, Riddler, Croc… you'd have thought the staff would have kept the most dangerous inmates separately rather than in one place. Then again, given that most of them would be more liable to attack each other if they all escaped at once…

Ivy kept her eyes resolutely forward as she passed her old cell, though she caught a glimpse of the "Isley, Pamela" sign on the door. "Quinzel, Harleen" was on her other side. She'd always been vocal about how much she hated having Harley opposite her. Sure, Harley did drive her crazy at times, but the more she complained, the less likely the staff were to move either of them, probably happy in the misguided knowledge they'd done something to spite her. Idiots.

The trail led straight to the operating theatre. (a necessity when most of the patients were also psychopaths) Checking her first impulse to just barge in, Ivy decided on a more stealthy approach, just in case. She pushed one of the double doors open just far enough for her to slip through, closing it carefully behind her then taking in the scene. Ah. There were the signs of a struggle.

It was a typical Joker lair. Well, almost. The usual bright colours, sinister clown faces (and they said Ivy was vain? Please.) and a formidable array of weaponry. But the 'homey' touches? They were just… wrong. Like some horrible parody of a dollhouse. And there wasn't a speck of dust in here; Harley had to be behind that. Most of the furniture had been scattered or broken though, evidence that a fight had taken place here not too long ago. Maybe Harley and the clown had escaped. That would explain why there was no sign of them being dragged out… that was the only reason they wouldn't have been dragged…

Ivy stopped dead when she found the pool of blood, a tight knot of fear constricting in her stomach. There was evidence that something, someone had been lying in it, then moved. It was dry, but not old. And there were further spatters leading off towards a stairwell leading down to the old storerooms. The clown had the devil's own luck; if anyone had been injured here then it would have been… Ivy headed down the stairs at a faster pace, almost running.

The storerooms were in semidarkness, only a few feeble rays of light making it through the tiny, filthy windows high in the outer wall. It was difficult for Ivy to follow the spots of blood, even after her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, but by trial and error she eventually reached the end of the trail.

It was an empty storeroom, with nothing left to indicate what had once been kept here. Now? Now it was clearly a burial ground. The linoleum, more intact down here, had been pulled up, then replaced over a floor that hadn't previously been so uneven. Without even thinking about what she was doing, Ivy pulled it back, driven by the need to know. It wasn't Harley. It couldn't be Harley. Beneath the linoleum the floor was paved stone, but several were loose. The ones over the raised hump in the ground. Taking a deep, shaking breath, Ivy placed some seeds in the cracks between the slabs, and within seconds thick vines had pushed them aside, revealing freshly-turned earth. She turned her back as the plants delved into the soil, unable to watch them pulling the grave open. As they finished their work, Ivy steeled herself, then looked. And stared.

Within minutes the room looked exactly as it had when Ivy had found it, only now the soil was packed that extra bit firmer, the stone slabs fixed tightly in place by vines before the linoleum was rolled back across them. Ivy had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. But now it was here, all she could feel was the overpowering need to find Harley. They'd killed the Joker. Would they then have baulked at killing his sidekick?

She had to get out of here, out into the open. Without looking back, Ivy ran back upstairs to the operating theatre, then out to the demolished side of the building and into the rain. Ivy took a deep, thankful breath of the night air, trying to rid herself of the smell and taste of the mildewed reek from the storerooms. She was starting to calm now, because Batman must have taken Harley. And this explained why there was no sign of resistance, the Joker's death would have subdued her in a way nothing else ever could. Harley was sure to be back in the new place now. Unless she'd been killed first… or attacked them after the Joker had been killed, to avenge him…

No. If they'd killed her, surely they'd have buried her with the Joker. (Ivy felt a sharp twist of mixed horror and disgust at the thought) And there was no sign of her, Ivy reflected as she walked further out into the ruined area, noting with some shock the huge chasm that had been torn through the remnants of this side of the building. Ivy couldn't imagine what could have caused it, only that it must have been catastrophic. The fissure had ripped straight through the building, and into the ground beneath Arkham, so deep that Ivy couldn't even see the bottom, just jagged struts of corroded metal and concrete pillars jutting out like broken bones.

A gleam of metal caught Ivy's eye as she moved back from the edge of the chasm, drawing her gaze like a magnet. Every other piece of metal out here was furred with rust, decayed like the rest of the building. What made this object any different? Maybe it was something one of the Bats had left…

…no. Ivy felt a cold hand close painfully about her heart as she recognised the weapon. Harley's bazooka. The personalized graffiti Harley had scrawled into the handle was unmistakeable. Ivy's gaze turned inexorably back to the chasm, fear rushing through her as the horrible realization struck. Maybe they hadn't buried Harley with the Joker because they hadn't bothered to find her body…

----------

Ivy had never been as agile as Harley, but nobody could have clambered down the wall of the yawning abyss with as much speed as she did. Admittedly, the going was made much easier by the thick vines that were now coiled firmly around any and all available hand and footholds, and snaking further downwards like a living rope. Even so, Ivy's reckless, desperate descent almost cost her neck several times. Thankfully the vines had more concern for her safety than she did, and were now curled about her wrists and waist to prevent another near-fall.

Pausing to get her breath back, Ivy looked back up at the lip of the chasm, now a good sixty or seventy feet above her, then down. She still couldn't see the bottom, the fissure simply faded into darkness beneath her. Ivy stared dully into it as the vines slid past her, consolidating their grip on the wall and spreading further out below her. She was still gazing downwards as another great flash of lightning whiplashed across the night sky. Briefly illuminating the depths of the chasm, and revealing the motionless red and black-clad form draped like a rag across a thick iron joist projecting out across the rift.

Even the thunder couldn't drown out Ivy's voice as she screamed Harley's name.


	2. Chapter 2

Title:The End Starts Today  
Author: Jen Kollic

Disclaimers: All characters are trademarks of DC Comics. I make no money from this. Wah.  
Feedback: Yes, please.  
Notes: I'm sorry Harley. I didn't mean it. Much.

Spoilers: Big spoilers for _Return of the Joker_. (the uncut version) Passing references to various other toonverse cartoon/comic episodes/issues as well.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_Harley really hadn't been expecting things to turn out this way. Sure, she'd had a bad feeling about the whole thing, especially given her suspicions about what Mistah J had been doing to the kid during "father-son time". But hey, she and Red had kidnapped the other Robin that time and nothing that bad had come of it except all the attention Ivy had been giving him which had been really annoying but then again there were more important things to be worrying about right now, like the fact she was currently plummeting into a chasm. Harley certainly hadn't seen that one coming._

_For the first couple of seconds Harley had been expecting Batgirl to catch her, what with her having the handy array of bat-shaped grappling hooks and all. This had been followed by the realisation that no, Batgirl was in fact not going to save her and 'oh fuck I'm plummeting into a chasm'. The latter would have been funny in a certain context, but given that Harley was the one doing the plummeting, not the one watching it, it was pretty clear the joke was on her and by the way she should REALLY be doing something to slow her descent because it wasn't the fall that killed you, it was the impact. Which was really much the same thing once she came to think of OH FUCK!_

_Strangely enough, after the initial burst of terrified shock, Harley found that she was reacting with a disturbingly indifferent detachment. Without even seeming to think about it, she stretched her limbs out to provide maximum air resistance as she fixed her gaze on a rapidly-approaching concrete pillar jutting out below her. If she could catch hold of that and flip herself up onto it she'd just have to worry about how she'd get back up the side of the chasm. Piece of cake._

_Maybe that plan would have worked better if Harley had taken the speed of her fall into account. Although she managed to catch hold of the pillar, her left arm was wrenched out of its socket while doing so, which shattered the curious detachment and replaced it with searing pain and screaming panic. Harley scrabbled wildly at the mercilessly smooth surface of the concrete with her right hand, a soft whimper of terror forcing itself from her throat as she felt herself slipping inexorably downwards, her left arm uselessly slumping back to hang at her side. She didn't even have time to scream before she lost her tenuous grip and continued to fall, leaving smears of blood on the concrete from her torn fingernails._

_The scream Harley did manage was abruptly cut off as she hit a ledge jutting from the chasm wall, her right leg crumpling beneath her with a horrible crack of bone as she struck it knee-first. For several long seconds, everything was a bright, stark white as the pain caught up with her, and when Harley's vision returned she was falling again._

_And then something slammed hard into her chest, bringing her descent to a sharp, rib-cracking halt. Harley wasn't exactly sure how that had happened, for a few moments she even thought that Batgirl had caught her, and it was her arm, or possibly Batman's, that was pressing into her chest. Nope. She'd fallen across an iron girder, and was staring straight down into the depths of the chasm below. She still couldn't see the bottom. That was cheerful. Harley made no attempt to move, even if she'd had the strength she was in too much pain to even twitch. Instead she hung limply over the metal bar like a ragdoll, which was probably what saved her from falling further. She was somewhat relieved when she finally lost consciousness a few minutes later.  
_

_----------_

It was quite possible that Ivy had never been more frightened in her life than she was at this moment, kneeling precariously on the pitted surface of the iron girder with one arm half-stretched towards Harley's motionless body. The abrasions across Ivy's bare arms and legs bore mute witness to her frenzied scramble downwards. But now Ivy couldn't bring herself to touch her. Harley looked dead, her body dangling limply across the thick metal bar like a marionette without strings. And Ivy couldn't bear the thought of touching her only to have her fears confirmed.

Beneath and around them, the vines were coiling about the girder, securing it to the chasm wall and ensuring that it wouldn't budge from the decaying concrete. Several more snaked beneath Harley's body, gradually raising and straightening her limbs (or at least straightening them as far as their current state would allow) until she lay flat against them. Harley didn't react in the slightest, not even showing any sign of pain as the vines slowly inched her unresisting body back towards Ivy.

Harley's skin was cold and wet; a mix of greasepaint and blood smearing across Ivy's fingers as she gently touched the clown-girl's cheek with a trembling hand. Biting her lip hard enough to draw her own blood, Ivy hesitantly slid her fingers beneath Harley's chin, feeling for a pulse at her throat. Even the snaking vines ceased their movements as she waited for what felt like an eternity.

Ivy would never be able to describe the relief which surged through her as she felt the faint beat beneath her fingertips. Letting out an explosive, sobbing breath, Ivy realised for the first time that she was crying, her tears scoring hot lines down her face in sharp contrast to the cold rain which was still beating down upon them. She had to get Harley out of here. Gesturing to the vines, Ivy watched anxiously as more curled beneath Harley's body, weaving themselves into a dense sling around her so that she could be kept still while she was lifted back up to the ruins of Arkham.

The plants didn't need to be told to be gentle; they already knew how much this human meant to their mother. Perhaps even better than she did herself.

----------

In less than half the time it had taken for the climb downwards, Ivy was back on solid ground and had moved Harley onto her back beneath the shelter of an overhanging wall. The sky was still dark and sullen, but streaked with lighter grey and a muddy purple towards the east. Ivy hadn't realised just how much time she'd spent looking for Harley, and didn't even want to think about how long the other woman had been down there. She was alive, that was all that mattered.

…but she was terribly hurt. Ivy had a basic knowledge of first-aid, and she knew enough to be aware that she was nowhere near skilled enough to treat injuries of this severity. She was trying hard not to look below Harley's waist, but the pale glint of broken bone kept catching her eye. Harley's right leg had been broken so badly below the knee that a long shard of bone had torn through both her skin and her costume, the bright red of the fabric now stained a darker, rusty crimson.

But that wasn't all. Harley's left arm was twisted back at an impossible angle, obviously dislocated. And even though she didn't react as Ivy gently probed her ribs, there were certainly several fractures there too. Strangely, it was her right hand which was the most distressing though. The palm and fingertips were badly torn and abraded, the nails broken and split, evidence of a desperate attempt to maintain a handhold. She must have been terrified. That thought was the worst.

Thoughts weren't helping though. Harley needed help, and she needed it now. Ivy was cursing her lack of foresight in coming here on foot, but she didn't dare leave Harley now, and there wasn't a (working) phone for miles. The vines would just have to keep carrying her. They were a slow and cumbersome mode of transport given that they weren't made for carrying people around, but they'd be able to carry Harley indefinitely, unlike Ivy. And also keep her more or less motionless and flat while doing so.

At Ivy's gesture, the vines coiled under Harley's body began to twist and twine themselves together as more creepers surged beneath the rough mattress they'd formed, raising it a few feet from the ground. Hardly the most inconspicuous way to travel, but since the area around Arkham was deserted Ivy didn't really need to worry about being seen. She just had to worry about where she'd steal a car from. And whether Harley would get worse (not die, she was not going to die) before she could get her to a hospital. Or if taking her to a hospital was even a good idea if Batman wanted her dead. (surely he either wouldn't have let her fall, or wouldn't have left her here if he didn't…) But she certainly had no time to waste on worrying now.

With a resigned sigh, Ivy made an impatient motion with her hand, and the living bier that the vines had formed shuffled forward awkwardly. It couldn't move much faster than a quick walk, which was extremely frustrating. Though it was better than nothing, and at least Ivy could keep up with it and make sure Harley didn't fall. Almost in the same instant that possibility occurred to her, two loose vines curled gently but firmly around Harley's chest and waist. Good babies.

For the next ten minutes or so, the only sounds were Ivy's footsteps and the slither of the vines, interrupted only by the occasional low rumble of thunder. Thankfully the rain was starting to slacken off as the storm died down, the dim, murky light on the eastern horizon slowly growing stronger. However, all thoughts of the weather vanished from Ivy's mind as a faint whimper broke the silence. Not Ivy's.

The plants had halted their ungainly movement as Ivy stopped dead, dropping to her knees by Harley's head as she saw her eyelids flicker and reaching out to gently touch the clown-girl's face. It was almost as if Harley had been waiting for the contact; as Ivy's fingers brushed her cheek, her eyes opened. But they were glazed and dull, staring vacantly ahead and not seeming to register Ivy's presence.

"Harley?" Ivy's voice was an urgent hiss. "Can you hear me?"

A faint frown followed by a slight nod was Harley's only response, her eyes still unfocused and distant. She made an attempt to sit, either not remembering that she was hurt, or not realising how badly, but a slight jerk of her right leg was enough to remind her. Ivy saw Harley's pupils contact almost to pinpoints as her mouth fell open in a silent scream of agony.

"Don't try to move!" Ivy ordered, much too late, unconsciously adopting the exasperated tone she so often used around Harley. "Just keep still, I'm going to get you help." she added, more gently.

The shock of pain seemed to have sharpened Harley's perception, her eyes now gradually focussing on Ivy's face. She made a few abortive attempts to speak, her face twisting as the efforts aggravated her broken ribs. And despite Ivy's attempts to shush her, Harley eventually managed to croak out a few hoarse, gasping words.

"Red? You found me…" She would have said more if Ivy's hand hadn't then been pressed firmly against her lips to silence her.

"Don't try to talk, you've been badly hurt." Ivy hated stating the obvious, but, well, this was Harley she was talking to. "Just be quiet and keep still, you can tell me what the hell happened here after I've gotten you to a hospital…"

"No!" Harley's sudden start of fear made Ivy jump. "Not the hospital! They'll find me!" Her blue eyes were wide and terrified as she gazed pleadingly at Ivy. "I can't go there!"

Well. It looked like Ivy had been right about Batman wanting Harley dead. But that didn't do anything to change the fact that she was still terribly injured. "Harley, you need medical attention. You're too badly hurt for me to patch you up, you'll most likely die if I don't get you to a doctor!"

"And he'll kill me if he finds me…" Harley moaned softly with a shudder of pain.

"Who? Batman?" Ivy gently laid one hand over Harley's. "Not in a hospital he wouldn't."

"He could! He's Batman!" To Ivy's surprise, Harley managed to seize her hand, the jagged edges of her broken nails biting into Ivy's palm. "It… it was really bad Red… you're the smart one, you can figure something out… I can't go to a hospital!"

Ivy could feel Harley's hand shaking as she clutched at hers. Maybe she already knew what had happened to the Joker, which would explain her terror. And, well, Batman (or one of his allies) had killed him, so maybe Harley wasn't over-reacting. If Batman really did want her dead then the best course of action would be to get her out of Gotham as quickly as possible. But she still needed urgent medical treatment…

…well, Ivy was supposed to be the smart one, wasn't she? Looking down at Harley with a sigh, Ivy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You're right Harl. I'll think of something…"


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The End Starts Today  
Author: Jen Kollic 

Disclaimers: All characters are trademarks of DC Comics. Except for Dr Adam Burke who is mine, and appears here as a reference that only me and one other person will find amusing. Ah well.  
Feedback: Yes, please.   
Notes: I thought it was a good idea at the time.

Spoilers: Big spoilers for _Return of the Joker_. (the uncut version) Passing references to various other toonverse cartoon/comic episodes/issues as well.

**

* * *

Chapter 3**

Dr Adam Burke was not having a good day. Admittedly, being an ER surgeon in one of Gotham's central hospitals made good days a rare occasion at the best of times, but he'd much rather have to handle the aftermath of one of Mr Xzaz's sprees than be in his current situation. Namely sitting in the passenger seat of a stolen car which was being driven by none other than the infamous Poison Ivy. The situation was so surreal that it was almost amusing. Maybe he'd have found it more humorous if it wasn't for the vines coiled tightly around his neck and wrists, the faint prickle against his skin warning him of the thorns lurking beneath their smooth surface.

Well. This was the last time he'd give a 'lost motorist' directions. Assuming of course he survived. That was a lovely thought. Though he honestly had no idea what Poison Ivy would want with him. She was meant to get pissed when you hurt plants, right? And Adam couldn't remember when he had last hurt a plant, except for the fern he'd accidentally killed by over-watering two years ago. And really, Poison Ivy wouldn't have come after him for that, right? Right?

He still couldn't believe he hadn't recognised her the minute she'd wound down one of the tinted windows 'because she was lost'. She had green skin for Christ's sake! But he was never at his best after a twelve-hour nightshift, and had been looking forward to home, bed, and being off-duty for three days. So when she'd asked for directions to the harbour he'd stopped to think about the easiest route, only to have his mental cartography interrupted by an ominous click and found himself looking down the barrel of a .44 handgun.

In that he'd been expecting to have his head blown off there and then, 'Get in the car' had seemed like such a reasonable request. Especially given the lack of passers-by/witnesses about at this time in the morning. It was certainly a preferable alternative to aforementioned massive head trauma. So he'd complied, and the moment he was inside, the vines had snapped around him like restraints, one also snaking out to close and lock the passenger door. That would have been when he'd realised who he was dealing with. Ivy had then warned him to keep still and keep quiet, as the vines tightened meaningfully, and drove off. She hadn't said a word since, and for the past ten minutes Adam had sat stock-still in nervous silence. There didn't really seem to be much alternative.

He hesitantly glanced across at the woman from the corner of his eye, noting her savagely grim expression with some unease. Ivy paid him no heed, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. What did she want with him? The fact that they were headed into one of the seedier outskirts of the city did little to ease Adam's apprehension…

Ivy couldn't believe it had come to this. And also couldn't believe it was the best plan she'd been able to come up with. It did make sense, in a maddeningly simplistic way, but it was so… crude. Harley was badly hurt. But she couldn't go to a hospital. So bring the hospital to her. Sort of. Ivy had already raided a (different) hospital for medical supplies, (via infatuated porter) then hung around another waiting for the shifts to change. She'd been worrying that she'd wind up snatching a janitor, but thank Gaia for name-tags and white coats. And for once today it seemed like she was in luck, as 'trauma surgeon' was clearly labelled underneath "Burke, Dr. A" on the tag.

Even so, this plan was ridiculous. At best. Like something Harley would have come up with. Oh god, what if something had happened to Harley in the time she'd been gone? It had been a good couple of hours now, and all Ivy had been able to do for her was clean her up. The plants would watch over her, but there was little they could do if…

Ivy heard the man beside her jump slightly as she floored the accelerator. She ignored him, trying not to think about what she'd do with him after she'd gotten him to treat Harley. Maybe she should have just taken Harley to one of the backstreet clinics where they simply took the money and asked no questions. But they weren't exactly the most skilled surgeons. And Batman would be expecting that. Then again, wouldn't he also be suspicious of the kidnap and/or murder of a random doctor? No. Of course not. This was Gotham, random murders were practically an everyday occurrence here.

Which reminded her, she still hadn't decided on where she was going to take Harley yet. Because they obviously couldn't stay in or near Gotham. And could only travel by car, so Brazil was out of the question. So was a motel. In fact, Ivy was starting to think that Florida really was the best option…

As the car screeched to a halt down a secluded alley by the fire escape of a shabby apartment block, Adam reflected that it was just as well the vines were holding him firmly in place, otherwise he'd currently be somewhere on the road several feet in front of the car after a quick trip through the windshield. Well, at least it seemed like Ivy wanted him alive? (though he couldn't stop himself from wondering for how long this would last…)

Ivy quickly glanced up and down the alley before cautiously getting out of the car, it would be typical if she was caught now. She'd have felt much safer if she'd taken Harley to one of her hothouses instead, since then she wouldn't need to worry about passers by. But then again, Batman would be expecting that. And it wasn't like the neighbours here were alert and responsible citizens; this was the same apartment she and Harley had been staying in when that bitch with the fox fetish had shown up. Nobody had apparently noticed that woman and her goons breaking in, or Harley being flung out of a window after all.

Turning back to the car, Ivy opened the trunk and removed the two bags of medical supplies she'd had the porter 'borrow' for her, awkwardly slinging the handles of the canvas holdalls over her left arm so she could keep her gun trained on the doctor in case he decided to make an escape bid after the vines let him go. She couldn't very well march him up the stairs bound hand and foot. She could try certainly, but that would be wasting precious time. As would having to find another surgeon if she had to shoot him, so she'd just have to hope he wouldn't make that necessary.

Luckily for Ivy, Adam was unaware that she really wasn't that good with firearms, and didn't try to bolt as the vines released him. Instead he remained sitting, not wanting to so much as twitch a finger without permission from the crazy gun-wielding supervillainess. Especially since he was pretty sure she'd taken the safety off already.

"Get out of the car, and don't even think about trying to run, unless you want me to shoot you." To Ivy's relief, her voice didn't show even the slightest tremour, despite the worry now gnawing viciously at her stomach. What if she was too late…

Adam complied silently, unconsciously raising his hands as he did so. Once out of the car, he caught sight of the bags Ivy was holding, and their contents. And suddenly things started to fit into place. So that was why she wanted him alive then…

Well, the doctor was doing as he was told now, but for how long? Ivy was slightly concerned over the fact that he didn't seem to be reacting to her pheromones, even though he was doing as he was told he showed no sign of blind devotion. She could always just kiss him to ensure his subservience, but then he'd hardly be in a fit state to treat Harley. Maybe he was affected, but was just reacting differently? Must be.

"We're going up this fire escape to the sixth floor. Now." Ivy continued, aiming her gun between his eyes just to be on the safe side. "You'll be going first, and I'll be behind you the whole way, so don't get any ideas. Understand?"

Adam nodded, his eyes back on the gun now, and reluctantly turned his back on Ivy to start the climb. Even though he could no longer see the weapon, he still felt a cold prickle between his shoulderblades. Every now and again this was emphasised by the barrel of the gun being impatiently jabbed into the exact same spot as he ascended the creaking metal stairs. He really hoped she'd put the safety catch back on…

Perhaps because of this, it didn't seem like he'd been climbing for long before Ivy ordered him to stop in front of a glass sliding door, the room beyond concealed by heavy curtains. Glass? In this neighbourhood? Then again, as he reminded himself, anyone who broke into this apartment probably wouldn't live to regret it.

"Open the door. It's not locked." As Adam had guessed, Ivy had no fear of break-ins. Since her kidnap by the fox-bitch, she'd made sure that the plants she'd left here were trained to make sure anyone (or anything) that broke in wouldn't be getting back out. At least not in once piece.

Sliding the door open, Adam waited for further instructions. Another jab with the gun was more instructive than words however, and with a deep breath he pushed the curtains aside and entered the room.

The first thing he noticed was the plants. Vines criss-crossed the walls and ceiling like veins, and to his alarm they reacted to his presence. Several uncurled themselves from the ceiling to spiral towards him, but all he could do was stare at them in blank, uncomprehending horror. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not when they merely coiled about his chest and shoulders instead of his neck.

Stepping through the door behind him, Ivy closed and locked the door before drawing the curtains. As she moved into the room itself, more vines stretched themselves across the entire wall behind her; even if the door had been open it would be inaccessible now. And the front door had already been taken care of, so there was no need to worry about an escape any longer.

Adam watched in some bemusement as Ivy unloaded the gun and threw it aside, but as he saw yet more vines bear it away he realised that she had no more need of it. The gun was a weapon he could have used against her if he had managed to get hold of it. The plants on the other hand only answered to her. Without even glancing at him, Ivy headed off into another room, (this one must have been some kind of lounge before the plants took over…) and he found himself being pushed/dragged along behind her. And then he saw the reason why he'd been brought here.

Forgetting all about the doctor for a moment, Ivy had dropped the bags and darted to the side of the bed where she'd left Harley. The blonde hadn't moved at all, it looked like she hadn't even regained consciousness since Ivy had left. Harley lay on her back, her costume removed ('cut off' would perhaps have been more accurate) and her makeup gone. She was almost as pale as she would have been with the greasepaint on, but she was alive. For now.

Adam flinched slightly as Ivy turned back to him, startled by the raw emotion he could see in her face, and shocked by the unmistakeable tears in her eyes.

"Help her." The request was simple, and Ivy's tone made it clear that there was only one possible answer as she carefully folded the blanket back from Harley's motionless body.

Nervously approaching the bed, ('assisted' by various tugs and shoves from the vines) a quick look at the blonde woman was enough to rekindle Adam's dull feeling of dread. He knew he was looking at Harley Quinn, and had heard about the time she'd been brought in after being flung out a fifth-floor window by her 'boyfriend'. From the looks of her, it seemed that history had repeated itself. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to speak for the first time since getting into the car.

"She needs to be in a hospital."

"She can't go to a hospital." Ivy replied firmly, giving him a dangerous glare. "That's not an option. There's medical supplies in those bags, that's the best I can do. Help her."

"I don't know if I can!" In some detached part of his mind, Adam was embarrassed at how shrill his panic-stricken voice had become. "She needs hospital treatment, and she can't get that here, I can't…"

"She can't go to a hospital!" Ivy repeated with a snarl. "You're a surgeon. Help her. And if she dies, so do you."

Funnily enough, Adam had already guessed that would be the catch. With something between a sigh and a groan, he moved closer to the bed and started to examine his patient, gently pressing her abdomen to check for internal bleeding.

He was still doing as he was told. Good. Though he seemed more afraid than anything else, Ivy was starting to think that maybe her pheromones hadn't affected him at all, which was odd. But he was helping Harley, and that was all that mattered. Even so, Ivy wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing, especially now that he'd insisted Harley should be in a hospital. But Ivy couldn't protect her if she was in a hospital. Then again, if Harley died here, Ivy knew she'd never be able to forgive herself for not taking her to a hospital. And if she did take Harley to a hospital, and she 'died' (of Bat) there, Ivy would never forgive herself either.

If there was one thing Ivy hated, it was a lose/lose situation.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The End Starts Today  
Author: Jen Kollic

Disclaimers: All characters are trademarks of DC Comics. Except for Dr Adam Burke who is mine, and appears here as a reference that only me and one other person will find amusing. He'll be gone after this chapter, I promise.  
Feedback: Yes, please.  
Notes: I'll give you three guesses why he's not affected...

Spoilers: Big spoilers for _Return of the Joker_. (the uncut version) Passing references to various other toonverse cartoon/comic episodes/issues as well.

**

* * *

Chapter 4**

By the time Adam had finished his work, it was late afternoon. At least that's what he was guessing from the dwindling light tricking through the small window high above the bed. He was no longer nervous; a combination of professionalism and sheer adrenalin had taken over almost as soon as he'd begun his work on Harley. And despite Ivy's menacing presence at his back, pacing like a caged tiger, all he could think of was what a great E.R. episode this would have made. (of course, he would have been Dr Ross…)

Initially he'd been amazed to find that Harley's injuries were less extensive than he'd imagined. It seemed that she had both broken bones and sheer luck to thank for that. Although the fractured ribs and broken leg were serious injuries themselves, the bones had absorbed most of the impact of the fall instead of internal organs. If she had hit the girder on her midriff instead of her chest she'd most likely have died of a ruptured liver before Ivy had even got her back here. But while there had been internal bleeding, with injuries like this it was unavoidable, it had been minimal.

Once he was sure that the bleeding had stopped and that her lungs had escaped injury, (that was really where the sheer luck had come into it) he'd moved on to deal with her leg, which was now by far her worst injury. Especially since he didn't have an X-ray handy, and had to resort to simply opening up the wound to get a good look at the damage. Ivy hadn't seemed too happy at that point, but hadn't said anything. Just as well, or he'd have had to point out (again) that Harley needed to be in a hospital.

Thankfully it had been a relatively clean break of the tibia and a fractured fibula instead of the organic jigsaw he'd been dreading, and he had set it with relative ease. Of course, it should really have been pinned, but for a start he didn't have pins, and even if he had he wouldn't have known where to start since he wasn't an orthopaedic surgeon either. Patch people up so they don't die, then pass them on to the appropriate specialist; that was his job. Only there were no specialists here, just a homicidal supervillainess with a plant fetish. Oh, and a crossbow. That didn't bode well.

Acting like he hadn't seen it, Adam returned his attention to Harley and finished binding her leg tightly before setting it between two perfectly straight and cylindrical lengths of wood that Ivy had seemed to snap right off the wall when he'd said he'd need something to use as splints. At least the break was below the knee, the femur would have been much worse. Throughout the entire ordeal, Harley hadn't stirred in the slightest. When he'd expressed concern, Ivy had curtly informed him that she was asleep, and would remain that way for as long as was needed. She had approached the bed several times throughout the ordeal, (each time Adam had found himself subconsciously shrinking back) but had only laid one hand on Harley's forehead for a few moments; there had been no sign of a syringe.

He could have sworn there had been tears in her eyes last time she'd moved away again, but had pretended not to notice.

Once Adam had finished doing what he could with her leg, treating the rest of Harley's injuries was simple in comparison. Getting her shoulder back into place required a fair bit of brute force, but once it snapped back into its socket then torn ligaments were all he needed to worry about, not whether she'd be able to walk again afterwards. Then it was simply a matter of cleaning the cuts and abrasions she'd suffered during the fall and more bandaging. She still should have been in a hospital, but now at least she would survive.

Ivy had watched Adam in almost total silence from the moment he had begun his work until he eventually stepped back from the bed, only speaking to answer his questions about Harley's state when she'd found her. She hadn't left the room once, not even when he'd cut Harley's leg open to expose the rest of the bone. Once he'd started working, the doctor hadn't complained or protested at all, almost as if he'd forgotten she was there watching him. He had just treated Harley as calmly as he would have if she was an ordinary patient, in ordinary circumstances. Which, she'd reflected bitterly as one of the vines pressed the handle of her crossbow into her hand, only made things worse really.

She couldn't let him live. He knew too much, could have the police after them before they'd even got out of the state, could tell them Harley was alive, could tell Batman that Harley was alive. But he'd saved Harley's life. Had he been some nameless security guard or cop, Ivy could have killed him without a moment's hesitation. Momentarily she even hated him for not being a nameless security guard or cop. But then he couldn't have helped Harley, could he? And she couldn't just pretend he was one either, since he had that helpful ID tag around his neck. Maybe she could get him to take it off, that might help…

Adam was the first to break the uncomfortable silence, nerves and anxieties slowly filtering back now that his work was done. "That's all I can do for her here, but she should still be in a hospital." As he turned to face Ivy, he saw that she was attempting to conceal the crossbow behind her back. He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

"I already told you; that's impossible." Ivy replied shortly, hoping he'd turn back to Harley again so she could get a clear shot at him. (without him seeing her)

"Well that break in her leg could easily develop an infection since it was an open fracture, so you'd better have antibiotics in those bags. And she's lost a lot of blood; she could really do with a transfusion." Adam continued. "Don't get any ideas!" he added hastily as Ivy's eyes narrowed slightly. "I have no idea what her blood type is, so mine might not match!"

The long pause made his mouth go dry as Ivy's cold green eyes bored into his. She had obviously already realised this, and was thinking it over.

"Is it essential that she gets one?" Ivy asked eventually, her finger tightening on the crossbow's trigger. After all, a mismatched blood transfusion couldn't be that harmful, right?

"It would be preferable, but she'll survive without one." Adam replied, truthfully. He wasn't sure what he'd have said if Harley really had needed a transfusion, since he had little doubt that he would have wound up being the donor.

"Good. Can she be moved?" Although the answer to that question would make no difference to Ivy's plans, she felt that she had to ask anyway. They had to get out of Gotham; the answer would dictate how fast Ivy would be able to drive.

"Moved?" Adam had to stop himself from adding 'are you crazy?' since that was more or less rhetorical. "She needs to be kept as still as possible with that leg, otherwise the bones could shift. If she was in a hospital…"

"Well she's not, so drop it!" Ivy snapped. "If she's laid out in the back seat of a car and secured there so she doesn't get jolted, will she be okay?"

For the first time, Adam began to wonder just what the two crazy women had done that required such an urgent getaway. Oh god, had they just killed someone? Killed several people? And he'd helped them? (well, helped Harley) Though when he thought about it more, he realised that if they'd done anything that terrible, it would have been on the news and he'd have known before he left work. And since when did mass-murder involve 100-foot drops? (for the murderer anyway…)

"…as long as you drive carefully, then yes, she should be fine." Adam replied finally, not without a trace of reluctance. "Well, as fine as she can be anyway… but you'll need to make sure she's kept still."

"That can be…" Ivy's voice trailed off as a slight movement caught her eye. Harley's eyelids were flickering as the herbal drugs Ivy had been using to keep her under began to wear off, and with a start Ivy realised that while talking to Adam she'd forgotten to give her another dose. Pushing the doctor aside roughly, (this was his fault after all) Ivy dashed to the bed, dropping her crossbow and laying one hand gently on Harley's forehead. The blonde's skin was no longer cold, now it was alarmingly warm.

As Ivy touched her skin, Harley whimpered softly, unfocused eyes fluttering open for a fraction of a second in reaction to the contact. They closed again as Ivy slowly stroked her face, the same natural drugs which had kept her unconscious earlier perfusing through Ivy's fingertips and into Harley's skin. People (including Batman) had gotten far too used to the idea of "Poison" Ivy to realise that toxins weren't the only things she could secrete.

"Shush." Ivy whispered softly as Harley stilled again, sinking back into insensibility. "It's going to be okay, just sleep for now Harl. You're safe, I promise…"

Adam watched Ivy silently; she seemed to have forgotten all about him. Which would have made now a great time for an escape bid… if he hadn't known that every way out would already be blocked by murderous vegetation. Instead, he stood quietly to the side, hoping that if he didn't cause any fuss then he just might make it out of this alive. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Ivy bend down to kiss Harley's forehead lightly.

Oh. So that was how things stood then.

Once she was sure Harley wasn't going to be waking up again any time soon, Ivy drew the blanket up to the blonde's shoulders, then retrieved her crossbow and turned back to the doctor. She'd been expecting (and half-hoping) he'd try to run while her back was turned, but he was still standing there, watching her with an odd look in his eyes. Ivy realised with a start that it was sympathy, and that he must have come to his own conclusions from what he'd just seen. Right or not, she resented him for it anyway.

It would have been much easier to shoot him if he'd been trying to escape, so she resented him for failing to do that as well. And even more for just standing there and watching her calmly, only flinching slightly as she raised the crossbow and aimed it at his head.

Well, Adam had known that the 'make no fuss' plan had a pretty low chance of success anyway, especially when he was dealing with a ruthless supervillainess. And that made begging for mercy fairly pointless too, so at least he was spared that humiliation. The worst part was knowing that Grant would have no idea what had happened to him.

He didn't even scream or anything. Despite her resolve, Ivy could feel her hand shaking, even as she braced it with her other arm. She had to kill him. She had to get Harley away from here without anyone following them. And leaving the doctor alive would compromise that, no matter how much…

"…I don't want to do this…" The words slipped out before Ivy could stop herself. She bit her tongue in annoyance, but kept the crossbow trained on Adam.

"You don't have to." Adam replied cautiously, though he didn't dare move. "I won't tell anyone what happened here, or what I saw, or anything, I promise."

Ivy decided that it was that insufferable refusal to panic that she now hated the most about him. If he'd just started freaking out, even a little, that would have made things so much easier. "And why should I believe that?" she asked with a bitter chuckle. "How do I know you can be trusted?"

"You trusted me enough to treat your friend's injuries." Adam wasn't sure which part of his subconscious prompted him to say that, he just hoped it was a sensible part. "Isn't her life more important than whether I'll run to the cops?"

Several minutes passed in utter silence, and although Ivy kept her crossbow aimed at Adam's head, her hands were visibly shaking. This wasn't really comforting from the doctor's perspective, since he was more than a little concerned that it might set the firing mechanism off…

Ivy's every instinct screamed against it, but she had made her decision. And slowly lowered the crossbow. Even if he did go straight to the cops, she could keep him here long enough to ensure that she and Harley would be long gone before anyone came after them. And he was right; she had trusted him to save Harley's life.

"If we're caught because of you…" she began threateningly, "…then you'll wish I'd killed you here and now. You can trust me on that."

"I understand." Still not entirely convinced that he wasn't about to get an impressive cranial piercing, Adam kept his voice in the same calm and neutral tones. After all, they seemed to have served him well so far. "Just make sure that you keep your friend completely still while you're driving, and be careful when you're moving her. You can kill me if I set the cops on you, but I won't be held responsible if her leg heals crooked, because…"

"I know, I know, she should really be in a hospital." Ivy finished for him irritably. She might have decided not to kill him, but she knew that knowledge was going to chafe at her until she and Harley were safely hidden away somewhere. "Once we're gone, you'll be able to leave." she added grudgingly. She might be letting him live, but Ivy still wasn't prepared to let him go while she and Harley were still in the vicinity. That was a completely unnecessary risk.

"And the plants…?" Adam asked nervously, watching in amazement as dozens of vines detached themselves from the wall and slid beneath Harley's body before lifting her from the bed, somehow managing to keep her body completely flat as they slithered across the floor and out into the hall.

"They like her." Ivy replied enigmatically. "They won't harm you. And…" As strange as she felt saying it, Ivy felt that she had to, "…thank you."

After a stunned pause, Adam managed to stutter a reply. "You… you're welcome… just doing my job…" Admittedly his job didn't usually involve being kidnapped and held at gunpoint, but it did basically boil down to saving a life, didn't it?

The plants blocking the fire escape door had already pulled back, Ivy unlocked and opened it before stepping aside to let the vines carrying Harley pass. Unlike a stretcher, the vines could adjust their height as they moved down the stairs, thus ensuring she was kept absolutely still. Even so, Ivy watched them anxiously for several moments before facing Adam again.

"The plants will block this door again after I leave, but it won't be locked. They'll stay there for an hour, then they'll let you go. So even if you do go to the cops, we'll be long gone, so it'll do you no good."

"I already promised you I wouldn't do that." Adam knew that pointing that out wouldn't help him leave any sooner, but it made him feel better about it.

"I know, but there's no way I can be sure that…" Ivy's voice tailed off as the sudden realisation struck her like a sledgehammer. How could she have been so stupid? There was an easy way to make sure the doctor wouldn't betray them, and it was so obvious that she couldn't believe she had forgotten it. Stress. Had to be the stress and worry about Harley. And it wasn't like it was too late…

The attack was sudden and unexpected; Adam didn't have a chance to react as Ivy darted forward, much less back away, before she grabbed hold of his lapel. What was even more unexpected was that Ivy didn't take the opportunity to stick a knife in his back. Instead, to his shock and horror, she kissed him.

Adam stumbled back as Ivy released him, apparently stunned. Finally he was reacting to her properly! "Remember not to tell anyone you saw us." she ordered, knowing he'd have to obey now. Feeling far more confident, she turned and headed out onto the fire escape; closing the door behind herself then quickly heading down the stairs to get Harley into the car.

Back in the apartment, Adam was still recovering from the surprise. Now that it was clear she hadn't been trying to poison him, (otherwise he'd be dead by now, wouldn't he?) he was starting to feel somewhat indignant, at both Ivy's actions and her order. He'd already promised not to go to the cops, hadn't he? And what the hell had she kissed him for? Was that supposed to be a bribe of some kind? Because it wasn't a very good one.

The fire escape door was already completely concealed by vines once more, but they seemed to have no interest in him now, which was good. Since he was going to be here for a while, Adam decided he'd better go check that there weren't any lipstick marks on his face. He'd certainly have had trouble explaining those to Grant…


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The End Starts Today  
Author: Jen Kollic

Disclaimers: All characters are trademarks of DC Comics, I'm just playing with them.  
Feedback: Yes, please.   
Notes: As with Chapter 3, this seemed like a good idea at the time.

Spoilers: Big spoilers for _Return of the Joker_. (the uncut version) Passing references to various other toonverse cartoon/comic episodes/issues as well.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The continual, throbbing chirp of the Florida crickets were an unnerving replacement for the night sounds of Gotham. Ivy still hadn't gotten used to the near-silence that seemed to envelop the villa complex after midnight. Admittedly there were hardly any holidaymakers here now that summer had passed and September was almost over, but even so Ivy still caught herself wondering at the lack of sirens.

The thought of hiding out in summer homes mostly used by people going to Disney World was so ridiculous that Ivy actually found it comforting. Even if Batman managed to track them to Florida, (unlikely since she'd made every effort to make it look like she was on the way to Louisiana) he'd be checking the motels, not this quasi-residential area. And it had been so much easier to get Harley here without drawing any attention to herself than it would have been at a motel.

It had simply been a case of phoning ahead to book a villa, with a new credit card under an alias she hadn't used before to make sure Batman couldn't trace it, and turning up to collect the keys wearing casual clothes with her hair pulled back into a ponytail and a careful focus on keeping her skin a normal colour. Harley meanwhile had remained in the back seat of the car, (now with license plates changed twice) hidden by its tinted windows and kept completely still by the vines wrapped about her body. She'd been unconscious for the entire journey. Ivy had made sure of that.

After getting the keys, Ivy had just driven to the villa, parked the car in the garage, and moved Harley into the house via the connecting door with the kitchen. So as far as the few neighbours knew, she was here alone. And thus far she'd managed to avoid any suspicious activity too, aside from the permanently closed blinds in one of the two bedrooms. Ivy had been careful about going outside as well, even now at night and in the seclusion of the mosquito-net covered pool she didn't let her natural skin-colour show. And her security measures were confined to inside the house, much to their disappointment as they'd already eaten every cockroach in the garage, and were starting to make surreptitious forays through the open patio door.

Ivy watched in slight amusement as a slender vine cautiously inched its way out of the door and down the steps leading to the pool before sliding noiselessly down one side of the concrete slabs and out of her sight. Had she still been in Gotham, the night air would have had the beginnings of winter's bite in it, but this far south it was like stepping into a hothouse whenever she went outside. If she'd had leisure to, Ivy would probably have quite enjoyed it. But she had other things on her mind, and as a sharp rustle marked a successful result for the foraging vine she pulled her feet out of the pool and stretched before heading inside.

If going outside was like entering a hothouse, then inside was like a fridge. No wonder the plants were unhappy. But they'd have to live with it, Ivy had been keeping the air conditioning turned up high ever since Harley had started to get feverish a few days ago as the break in her leg had become infected. Thankfully Ivy had been foresighted enough to steal intravenous antibiotics with the rest of the medical supplies, and although Harley wasn't showing much sign of improvement yet, she hadn't gotten any worse.

Even so, as Ivy stepped into the dimly-lit room, she couldn't help feeling a twist of anxiety at the fact that Harley still didn't look any better. Her skin was still extremely pale, now glistening slightly under a sheen of cold sweat, her eyes sunken and ringed with dark circles. Ivy hadn't let Harley regain consciousness yet, keeping her sedated with a blend of opiates which would also numb the pain. Ivy wasn't entirely sure whether she was doing this for Harley's sake or her own, to put off the time when she'd have to tell the blonde woman what had happened to the clown. No. It was definitely for the best that Harley remained unconscious and still for now. It had nothing to do with any fears on Ivy's part. At all.

Fetching a syringe and a small bottle of antibiotics from the box beside the bed, Ivy turned up the lights as she punched the needle through the seal of the bottle and drew out the medication. The doctor had helpfully fitted an intravenous line into Harley's left hand back in Gotham, which had made it easy for Ivy to attach the saline and glucose drips she'd stolen from the hospital in Gotham as well as administer the antibiotics. The opiates had been supplied by Ivy herself, and were more effective than any medical morphine.

As Ivy bent slightly to take hold of Harley's hand, she couldn't help noticing the vines wound close around the blonde's chest, easily visible as the blanket covering her had been folded back almost to her waist because of the fever. Injecting the syringe into the IV line, Ivy gently laid Harley's hand back by her side and placed the syringe on the bedside table, then laid her fingertips upon the tightly-coiled vines.

Ivy had gotten the idea from a documentary about snakes in the Amazon; just as a python would wind itself around its prey and squeeze until it felt the heart stop, the creepers were tight enough to feel Harley's heart beating. (though not squeezing so hard as to hinder her breathing or do further damage to her broken ribs) It was certainly a clumsy and primitive method of monitoring Harley's pulse, but it was the best Ivy could do.

Although Harley's heart-rate was still faster than normal, it did seem like the fever was finally breaking, her temperature was gradually falling and the spasmodic shivering that had been wracking Harley's body for the past two days seemed to have stopped. With extreme care, Ivy gingerly probed beneath the bandages on Harley's leg, relieved to find that the swelling also seemed to be going down, although the skin around the wound was still hot to the touch.

The soft whimper made Ivy snatch her hand back as if she'd been burned, even though she was convinced she must be hearing things. Because there was absolutely no way Harley could be anywhere near conscious just now, not with the amount of opiates currently in her bloodstream. But somehow, no doubt just to spite her, Ivy saw that the blonde's eyes were slightly open, a faint look of bemused disorientation creasing her forehead as her blue eyes studied the ceiling with detached curiosity.

Ivy took a few noiseless steps back as her mind raced; unconsciously making sure Harley wouldn't be able to catch sight of her for now. Harley should not be awake right now, it was impossible, Ivy had been regularly dosing her with enough opiates to keep her out as if she'd been under anaesthetic. And it was much, much too early for Harley to have developed any kind of resistance to the drugs; it would take months for her immune system to even begin to…

Of course. Harley's immune system would adapt much faster because of the shots Ivy had given her so that she wouldn't wind up getting poisoned from being around her. How in the hell had she managed to forget about that? Well, she could kick herself for the oversight later; right now she had to deal with it. Ivy considered just darting forward to give Harley a larger dose of opiates before the blonde became fully conscious, but if she did that Harley would see her. And would be bound to ask questions (that Ivy didn't want to answer) before Ivy managed to knock her out again.

Another whimper. Ivy had to do something fast, consequences be damned. It was far better for Harley to be senseless, that way there would be no risk of her trying to move her leg. (even if it was tightly bound and splinted, and a few vines had pre-emptively wrapped about it to hold it flat on the bed) Steeling herself, Ivy quickly moved forward to stretch a hand towards Harley's bare shoulder, her fingertips already slightly damp as if from sweat.

They never connected. Much to Ivy's consternation, Harley reacted to the movement (how? Even if she was conscious, she was still doped up to the eyeballs!) and turned her head towards her. Ivy froze with her hand only a few inches from Harley's bare skin as their eyes met, as if she'd been caught red-handed in some dreadful act. As if to emphasise this, Harley's eyes narrowed in what might have been suspicion, but was in fact a hazy attempt to focus on the blurred figure standing over her. The skin and hair colouring were enough to identify Ivy, even before Harley could make out her features.

"…Red…" It had been Harley's first word after Ivy had found her, and now her first word on regaining consciousness too. "What… where…" As she made several attempts to move, it took several seconds for Harley to realise that her body wasn't responding, though her head was swimming as if she'd just spent six hours on a Sit-N-Spin. Strangely there was no pain, apart from inside her head; the rest of her body was completely numb. This might have worried her if she'd been more lucid, but in her current state she accepted it without question.

"It's okay Harl. You're safe now." Pulling her hand back, Ivy wiped it surreptitiously on her shirt before continuing. "Just take it easy, I'll go get you some water." As she stepped out of the room, Ivy took a deep, shaking breath. She had no idea what to do now. She couldn't drug Harley again without her noticing, not unless she distracted her somehow, or managed to do it quickly. If Harley realised that she'd been keeping her unconscious…

Harley meanwhile was gazing back at the ceiling, wondering why she couldn't see any plants, just plain white paint. Not what she'd come to expect from one of Ivy's hideouts. Maybe this was a motel? The stark whiteness was starting to make Harley's head throb, and she closed her eyes with a grimace. Only for them to snap open again moments later to banish the images that seemed to be imprinted on the back of her eyelids. Even so, the kid's screaming still echoed in her ears, so vividly that Harley began to wonder if he was here too, and raised her head slightly to keep an anxious lookout for Ivy.

That made the nausea ten times worse, and Harley let her head fall back with a grunt, her brain shattering into spiked balls and sharp edges as her skull impacted with the pillow. She decided that the images were better than her rapidly-worsening migraine, and shut her eyes once more. The next thing she knew, there was a slight pressure at her lips and Ivy's voice beside her.

"Here. Drink." It was an order, not a suggestion, and Harley gave a small moan of protest as her head was gently lifted. It seemed like the intensity of her headache was directly proportional to how far her head was raised from the bed. She took a few gulps of water to appease Ivy, then turned her face away with a grunt that she hoped would translate as 'please put my head back down before it explodes'. Thankfully it did.

"Where are we Red?" As her perception began to sharpen, Harley was starting to realise that she definitely wasn't in one of Ivy's hideouts, and the room certainly didn't look like it was in a seedy motel either. Too clean.

"We're in a safe place Harl, don't worry. Just take it easy, no-one's going to find us, not Batman, not…" Ivy broke off as Harley started at the sound of his name, her eyes widening in fear.

…_the eerie white eyes narrowed to burning slits as he strode inexorably towards her, black gloves reaching for her throat as behind him the kid in the Joker costume screamed and cried and laughed all at once…_

"He'll find me…" Harley moaned as the images slowly faded, the look in his eyes had promised her that. But that had been a dream, hadn't it? She'd fought Bratgirl, while Mistah J had fought…

"No he won't Harley. We're not in Gotham. We're not even in the sane state, we're in Florida. He's not going to track us here; I've left nothing for him to follow…" Again Ivy paused in mid-sentence, this time because from Harley's expression it was clear that the blonde wasn't listening.

Harley was sure that Batman attacking her was a dream. He'd gone for Mistah J, hadn't he? She had memories of falling, but it was a blurred mix of shattered concrete walls and brick buildings, and she couldn't remember if she'd fallen or if Mistah J had pushed her. No, that had happened before. Batgirl had pushed her this time. (or had she? Harley was sure she remembered trying to hold onto her) And Ivy had been there this time, not that Hispanic cop. But what had happened to Mistah J? (and why did that thought give her a cold feeling inside?)

"Red? If you found me, what did they do with Mistah J?" Well, it was certainly weird that Ivy had found her, after being pushed out the window Harley had woke up in Arkham. Maybe Mistah J had escaped and the Bats had been chasing him instead. Or maybe (well, probably) they'd been more concerned about Junior than finding her. And why wasn't Ivy looking at her any more? "Red?"

Ivy was tempted just to lie and say she didn't know, but Harley would discover the truth sooner or later, and if she remembered that Ivy had lied to her about it… well, it wouldn't be good. Best just to put her back to sleep for now, Harley was in no state to hear about what had happened to her puddin'. (Ivy certainly wasn't trying to put it off, not at all…)

"Red?" As Harley called her name for the third time, Ivy finally reacted, turning to face her and reaching out with one hand to stroke strands of blonde hair back from Harley's eyes. Even in her current groggy state, Harley could still make out the brittleness in Ivy's eyes and voice as she spoke.

"Never mind that now Harley. Just get some sleep." Keeping her hand on Harley's forehead, Ivy hoped that the drugs would kick in before Harley realised what was happening. Even so, better this than having to tell her what had happened to the clown.

"But… Mistah J…" Harley's head was spinning again, her own voice sounding distant as the screaming in her ears began to return. Ivy's fingertips felt cool as they slowly stroked back and forth across her forehead, though the redhead was going out of focus again. Harley was trying hard not to close her eyes, because she knew what she'd see if she did, but it was like her eyelids were weighted with lead…

Good. It had taken under a minute, Harley would never realise what had happened. (well, as long as Ivy didn't have to do that too often…) And this was for the best, there was no way Ivy could have told Harley that the clown was dead as soon as she came round. It wouldn't have been good for her. Harley needed more time to recover (and Ivy needed more time to work herself up to it) before she could be told. This was definitely for the best.

Ivy wasn't fooling anyone. Least of all herself.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: The End Starts Today  
Author: Jen Kollic

Disclaimers: All characters are trademarks of DC Comics. I'm just playing with them.   
Feedback: Yes, please.  
Notes: There will be a long hiatus between this and the next chapter, as chapters 1-6 took over 12 months to write over at my LJ, I've just copied and pasted all of this from there. Because LJ lets me have asterisks.

Spoilers: Big spoilers for _Return of the Joker_. (the uncut version) Passing references to various other toonverse cartoon/comic episodes/issues as well.

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**Chapter 6**

The first thing Harley became aware of when she finally regained consciousness was the low drone of the air-conditioning. For several long minutes she lay with her eyes closed, not sure whether she was awake or still sleeping. The darkness and the soft, constant hum were strangely soothing, and she simply lay and listened to it for what could have been hours. Well, she was pretty sure she was lying down, but the numbness of her limbs and the odd sense of detachment made it hard to tell.

Anyway, if she was dreaming Harley hoped it would stay like this. No screaming, no Batman trying to strangle her, no tortured (or torturing) kids, just a nice, peaceful black. Though a small voice was whispering that hey, maybe she deserved those dreams. Because maybe she shouldn't have gone along with this plan. Or at least gone along with it until Mistah J had pulled out the car batteries and electrodes and drugs and scalpels but by then she'd been just too caught up in the joke (and trapped in the fantasy) to do anything other than play along.

At the time she'd reasoned that hey, she and Red had done the same kinda thing to the previous (older) Robin, and he'd been just fine afterwards. And after all, Ivy had used her hypnotic lipstick on him, and that wasn't too far removed from mind-altering psychotropics. And brainwashing. And hallucinogens. And electricity. Okay, so maybe that hadn't been good reasoning, but that was always one of the first things to go when she was with Mistah J. Maybe because she also had to subconsciously strangle any independent and/or potentially rivalling thought. She'd learned the hard way that Mistah J didn't appreciate initiative. More than once.

Which would have made it oh-so-easy just to pin the blame for everything on him and forget that irritating niggling that she knew was guilt because it always came whenever she was in solitary in Arkham after the particularly big jokes she'd helped her Puddin' pull off and she had time to think about how maybe dropping a nuke on Gotham could have been a bad thing. But somehow it always vanished whenever she was back with him, which was one of the many reasons she loved him, because he could make her forget everything except the joke. And even if inwardly she didn't think the joke was all that funny, or could do with improvement, she always laughed hard enough to believe in it.

She would have liked to think that she hadn't had much choice, but the same small, annoying voice told her that she'd be lying to herself. Sure, not laughing at Mistah J's jokes would pretty much guarantee unpleasant consequences, but she didn't always have to actually be there for them, did she? Just like Ivy always reminded her every time she turned up at her place after she'd had a fight with Mistah J. Though really, 'fight' implied a certain amount of violence on both sides, which wasn't entirely accurate.

And Harley just knew Ivy was going to make her feel so much worse when she went 'You helped that clown torture Batman's little sidekick into a miniature version of himself? That's not funny Harley.' Because that was one of the reasons that she always went back to Mistah J, he never made her feel bad about the jokes. Unless she'd somehow messed things up. Then she'd end up back at Ivy's again. Like now for instance, only this wasn't like any of Ivy's other hideouts she'd been to. Or maybe she'd been dreaming last time, and everything would look familiar now.

With that thought in mind, Harley forced her eyes open, flinching at the resulting shock of pain. Although the light in the room was minimal, it still seemed to drill through her retinas and into her brain. And no, the room wasn't familiar yet either. There weren't enough plants. Or possessions for that matter, the floor and surfaces were bare of everything except medical supplies. Still looked too clean to be a motel though. Too well air-conditioned too.

Unfortunately, as she became more aware of her surroundings Harley also became more aware of the little bits and pieces that assured her that the comfortable numbness she was currently feeling was only drug-induced. There was a tightness around her chest that felt like she was wearing a shirt that was too small, and faint twinges across her ribs as she breathed. The fingertips of her right hand itched abominably. The fuzziness in her head was threatening to turn nasty very soon. And her right leg… was still numb. But numb in the post root-canal 'oh god this is going to hurt when the local wears off' kinda way. And when she tried to move her left hand to investigate the source of the itching on her right, not even the drugs could mask the pain which spiked through her left shoulder.

A moment later the door was opened, making Harley flinch as she twisted her head to the side, away from the sudden flood of light from the next room. The pain in her shoulder had faded to a dull throb, but her head was starting to pound unmercifully. It took a few moments for her to realise she was being spoken to.

"Harley? Harley, can you hear me?" Ivy's voice seemed to cut through the fuzziness in Harley's head, and not in a good way. In more of a 'hot knife through butter' kind of way.

"…not so loud…" Harley was surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded, but was quickly distracted by the interesting way that the simple act of speech had made pain ripple across her ribs somewhat like a sadistic xylophone. Only not the same kind of sadistic as Mistah J's electrified one, because that had been sorta funny.

"Sorry." Even dropped to just above a whisper, the sound of speech still seemed to make Harley's brain vibrate unpleasantly, but bearably. "How long have you been awake?"

Harley was aware that Ivy was standing over her now, throwing a welcome shadow across her which blocked out the light from the door, which let Harley turn her head back to face her. Ivy was wearing only a long shirt, and from the haggard look on her face Harley guessed she'd just woken her up. Somehow.

"I… don't know Red." It took a while for Harley to answer as she realised that she honestly had no idea. "Not long… I think. Where are we?" She vaguely remembered asking this question before, but couldn't remember the answer. Or if Ivy had told her what had happened to Mistah J.

"We're in Florida. Orlando," Ivy replied, her hand on Harley's chest. Oddly, Harley realised that she couldn't feel it.

"Don't tell me we're in Disney World, because I can honestly say I don't feel up to it..." Harley muttered as she raised her head slightly, enough to see the vines coiled around her. "What the hell?"

"They're necessary Harl. Don't worry about them," Ivy said as she bent slightly to probe at Harley's leg.

"Well they're tight, don't tell me you're going in for corsets now and decided to try one out on me…" Harley had dropped her head back to the pillows, as her head cleared the ache was only getting worse.

"No. They're that tight so that they can feel your pulse."

There was a pause as Harley took this in. "You're joking… right?"

"What do you think woke me up? You should be in a hospital; I'm making do as best I can." Ivy seemed to have finished her examination, and laid her hand on Harley's forehead, her touch cool and somehow soothing.

"…hospital… right…" Harley knew there was a reason why she wasn't there, and was just trying to remember it. The involuntary start she made when she did set off a chain reaction of assorted pains from her head to her leg, and then back up. "Batman!"

"It's okay Harley." Ivy's voice was as soothing as her touch, her fingertips now running back and forth across Harley's forehead in slow, relaxing strokes. "That's why we're in Florida. He won't find us."

"But he'll try… what we did… not you, Mistah J…" Harley was finding it increasingly difficult to string the words together, the coolness of Ivy's touch seeming to seep into her body in a manner that wasn't at all unpleasant. "Mistah J… where…"

"I don't know Harley. We can talk about him later." Ivy's voice seemed to be growing more distant as her hand continued its slow, gentle strokes. All Harley was aware of now was that she wanted to go back to sleep, which was strange because deep down she knew she really didn't, because of the dreams and because she really did want to know what had happened to Mistah J… but somehow that wasn't so important any more.

The last thing Harley was aware of was the odd way Ivy's fingertips seemed to tingle against her skin, and the rapidly-smothered realisation of exactly what it was she was doing…

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This time, when Harley woke up her eyes instantly snapped open… to her immediate regret as the daylight which had managed to seep through the curtains raked at her optic nerves. Which soon paled into insignificance as she realised that the comfortable numbness had faded, leaving her with an unenviable symphony of hurt throughout her body. The prickling ache of her ribs was more background; it was the throb of her leg that was stealing the show. Her shoulder was okay as long as she kept it completely still and didn't try to move it and especially didn't try to raise herself up on her elbows. She'd have to remember that. But at least the pain was keeping her head clear.

Harley was relieved to find that she could still move her right arm without it feeling like it was going to pop out of its socket, only the rusty 'I haven't been moved in a while' twinges. Except for her hand, which felt like the skin was cracking when she flexed her fingers. Raising it somewhat shakily, Harley's somewhat detached curiosity was foiled by the gauze wrapped around her palm and fingers. She didn't remember doing anything to her hand, but then again she'd probably been distracted by her leg breaking. If not the fall itself of course.

But she was getting distracted. Harley needed her head clear to get some straight answers out of Ivy, not to think about the various ways she'd broken herself in the fall. (don't think about the fall) Using her right thumb, Harley cautiously poked at the vines wrapped around her chest, hoping she didn't hit a broken rib.

"Well? Get Red already, isn't that what you're meant to do?" Harley's voice was still raspy, but this time she wasn't sure if the crackle of pain across her ribcage was caused by speaking or by the way the vine she'd poked squirmed at her touch. She decided to blame the vine.

Several minutes passed before Ivy finally entered the room. And when she did, not even Harley could miss the reluctance apparent in her body language. Harley was starting to wonder just what in the hell she had to hide, she obviously hadn't been paralyzed by the fall and still had all her limbs, she couldn't think of anything else Ivy wouldn't want to tell her. (actually she could, but she was being very careful not to think of it, because it was silly anyway)

"You need better vines Red, if I'd had a heart attack I'd be brain-dead by now." To Harley's surprise, Ivy didn't look at all reassured by her regained sense of humour. In fact, she looked… worried? Afraid? Oh god, maybe Batman had caught up with them… no, if that was the case wouldn't she be fighting him?

Ivy knew she should have been relieved to see that despite her injuries Harley seemed to be her old self. But now she knew that Harley couldn't have any possible idea about what had happened to the Joker. And had also shaken off the effects of the opiates which should have kept her out or at least tractable until well into the afternoon. She was going to have to tell her. Unless…

"How are you feeling?" Despite her inner turmoil, Ivy's words were soft and reassuring as she reached out to touch Harley's forehead, hating herself for what she was doing.

Or rather, was going to do before Harley twisted her head away.

"Don't." The humour was gone from Harley's voice now, her eyes narrowed. "I know what you're trying to do Red. How long have you been keeping me out for?"

After an uncomfortable pause where Ivy considered just grabbing Harley's uninjured shoulder and knocking her out anyway, she finally answered. "I didn't have a choice. You had to be kept still. You still do." Inwardly she sighed in relief as Harley's gaze softened slightly.

"Then I promise to keep still." Harley wanted to be angrier, but couldn't help remembering that if it wasn't for Ivy she'd have been a corpse in a chasm. "Besides, you seem to want to knock me out whenever I ask a question."

Ivy wanted to deny that and gloss things over. It would be easy; for someone as skilled at manipulation as Ivy, Harley was as malleable as Clayface himself. Except of course that Ivy hated manipulating Harley even more than she hated knowing that she hated it. But she knew all the same, which was why she started steeling herself to answer the question she'd been dreading since that moment in the cellars of Arkham.

Ivy's silence was worrying. Harley was starting to wonder if maybe she was paralysed but her leg was just broken so badly that she could feel it anyway, which was crazy. No. Deep, deep down Harley had already guessed what this was about, though even without confirmation she was still denying it to herself. She'd had an awful lot of practice at denial after all. All of a sudden she found that she didn't want to ask any more questions, especially not concerning what might have happened to a certain someone who absolutely, positively, could not possibly…

She asked anyway, and immediately hated herself.

"What happened to Mistah J, Red? Tell me."

In the few seconds before she answered, Ivy somehow managed to run through various ways of answering that question in various roundabout ways. But eventually, and quite uncharacteristically, she opted for the plain truth.

"He's dead Harley. I'm sorry." Not sorry he was dead of course, Ivy couldn't bring herself to be that hypocritical, but for Harley. For what this would do to her. Oh Gaia, what would this do to her? Somehow, in all of her fantasies where the Joker was no longer in the picture, Ivy had never considered that vital point.

For several long moments Harley simply stared up at her in blank incomprehension, her blue eyes wide and wondering like a young child who'd just been told that their first pet had just gone for a long sleep. "You mean… there was an explosion or something?" Harley's voice trembled as she spoke, trying desperately to find some kind of reassurance that no, the universe hadn't just dropped out from under her. "No-one could find the body? Like that?"

"No Harley." Ivy's had taken Harley's right hand and held it gently. Harley didn't react, either because she knew the bandages would stop Ivy from trying to drug her by touch, or because she'd forgotten all about it. "I found his body. He's dead."

Much to the surprise of the small part of herself that was managing to stay detached, Harley didn't make a sound. She was much too busy feeling her world shattering around her like so many funhouse mirrors.

Only without the fun.


End file.
